


Rotations and Repetitions

by bookwormally



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/M, M/M, hemoflip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-21
Updated: 2014-10-21
Packaged: 2018-02-22 00:22:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2487590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookwormally/pseuds/bookwormally
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A couple of vagrant seadwellers come to see the Second Scarlet roll into town. Feferi decides a personal greeting is necessary and Eridan about has a pusher attack.</p>
<p>Ages before that the first Scarlet patches up a fierce seadweller.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Of Palanquins and Grub Cake

Darting through the crowd would have been easier if he had a bit more meat on his bones but Eridan Ampora could have cared less about food at the moment. His moirail had disappeared in the excitement of the parade and he had to find her before some kind of accident happened and they were both up shit creek without a paddle. Barely restraining a shout of joy at the sight of his moirail’s tangled mess of hair; the seatroll yanked his hood up higher as a defensive reflex. Hopefully the excitement of their city’s distinguished guest would keep the unsavories distracted enough to not feel like beating a couple of lowly seatrolls in an alley as they tried to visit the market.

His moirail for her part was ducking to the front of the crowd to get a proper look at the parade. By the time Eridan reached her entry point she was up to the roadblocks set up to keep the crowds back. Hissing after her he tried to follow. “Feferi come on! We don’t have time for this. The market is only open for a few hours and then we gotta head hiveward.”

Turning at his poke she clapped her hands in glee. “Eridan come here! He’s coming down the road!” Before he could stop her she pulled him next to her causing a few bluebloods to grumble.

Eyeing them carefully in case of threat, Eridan didn’t notice the oncoming focus of the parade. Feferi’s hand squeezed his tightly. “There he is Eridan! The Second Signless! I can’t believe he’s here!” Cheers rose up all around them and Eridan could feel his ear fins twitch anxiously under the hood. Resisting the urge to flee he turned to face the same thing every other troll was.

The Second Signless was coming down the road upon what appeared to be a palanquin born on the psionics of four goldbloods. Red banners were carried by a platoon of greenbloods behind them showing what Eridan had always found ironic, the Sign of the Signless. Red pillows and drapes were all over the palanquin, but what could be seen of the troll inside was a rather small young man dressed in rich fabrics and a very grumpy expression. One of the goldblood’s leaned up to whisper something to him causing a growl, but reluctantly the Second Signless waved a hand into the air.

Feferi was bouncing up and down as he came even closer and before Eridan could blink she was ducking under the roadblock. Spitting curses he reached for her but she was already moving steadily towards the approaching palanquin. She was unnoticed at first until she walked right up to the goldblood who had whispered to the Second Signless. Racing after her Eridan grabbed her arm and made to pull her away before she could say anything. But of course if Feferi didn’t want to move there was no force on Alternia that could move her.

Flipping her hair out of her face Feferi turned on the charm. “Excuse me sir, but could I please say hello to our honored guest? I would very much like to greet him!” She flashed him a smile, pleasant but all seadweller teeth. She had never quite grasped exactly how unnerving it was for highbloods. Seadwellers were already a mutant segment on the lowblooded end of the hemocaste, shark smiles were not helping. The goldblood and the Second Signless were staring at the two of them as well as the rest of the entourage, the spectators, and what appeared to be the city guard.

Eridan was going to pass out at this rate and tugged more desperately on Feferi’s arm even as he stammered out apologies to the highbloods. The city guards were starting to approach even as the Second Signless held up a hand and stopped Eridan’s blathering as well as Feferi’s greeting. He pointed to them. “Do either of you have something sweet on you? Candy, grub cake, something?” With a slap the goldblood facepalmed even as Feferi grinned and Eridan nodded slowly and pulled out the grub cake they had saved up for to celebrate Feferi’s wriggling day coming up. “Excellent. Get up here.” He offered a hand and helped them both onto the palanquin before motioning for the parade to continue.

Eridan sat with his limbs all bundled as close to his body as he could physically make them. Everyone was staring at them and while they probably didn’t know who they were, they were clearly near the bottom of the hemocaste. “Oh cod,” he whispered. Feferi had settled in like a queen and after her greeting to the Second Signless had turned to continue flirting with the goldblood.

Apparently his name was Sollux and Eridan hissed in his mind. This was going to end so badly. Why were these idiots acting like the seadwellers were welcome here? Did they want them to be comfortable when they killed them? _Sharing names and laughs. This is going to end so badly and all I wanted was to show Fef the market…_ Tugging the hood closer down over his eyes Eridan felt the weight of the Second Signless’ gaze on him and realized he had yet to greet him. Almost falling over he bowed over his folded legs almost fell as the palanquin jerked. Glaring at the now smirking Sollux he muttered, “Thank you for the honor Sire. To share a ride with someone like you is-”

The Second Signless cut him off with a growl and an out stretched hand. “Yeah, yeah I am the greatest whatever. You going to cut me a share of that cake or not?”

With a snap of his teeth Eridan sat upright and glared at him. Son of the Sacred Scarletblood or not this whelp didn’t just get to demand a piece of the cake they had saved up for weeks to afford. “How about no? Sire.” He tacked on belatedly.

The kid was staring at him in shock then his eyes slowly narrowed. “I only let you on this miserable excuse for a float because you had that sweet and I thought you had the intention of sharing you grubfucker!”

Bristling at each other across the way, Eridan suddenly became aware of Feferi’s hand on his own, the prickle of psionics in the air, and the eyes of everyone around them. With a sigh he began to peel off the paper wrapped around the little cake and held it out. A line of blue red fire and it was sliced neatly. Feferi took the first two slices handing one to the goldblood and then tearing pieces off the other and popping them in her mouth. With a little bow of his head Eridan offered the last slice to the Second Signless.

Silver gray eyes of childhood that they all still shared watched him carefully as he reached out and took it. Still watching he tore it in half and offered it back. Eridan took it and there was something that might have been a smile if the face was less grumpy. “Karkat Vantas. I really wish I could have just gone to market today without all this fanfare.”

Eridan chuckled as he took the piece and then shook hands with him. “My name’s Eridan, Eridan Ampora. And you know? I woulda liked that too.”

The rest of the ride was smooth sailing even when Fef nearly faceplanted into the pavement upon their jerky stop. Karkat turned out to be less of a douchebag and more of an awkward romcom lover with a thing for sweets and a wish for less attention. He thought fashion was stupid, didn’t understand what it was like to scrimp and save for every cent, but he loved gossiping and making up stories for random people in the crowd. They stopped and let the seadwellers off at a relatively quiet corner just off the main square.

Karkat offered a hand and Eridan grasped it even as he watched a smiling Fef give Sollux a rib cracking squeeze. “Tell you what Eridan you show me the market tomorrow without all this fanfare and you and your moirail can come visit the absolute monstrosity of marble we’re staying in afterwards. Just don’t wet yourself in excitement.”

Rolling his eyes the seatroll couldn’t help but smile. “You just don’t appreciate the lavish lifestyle you got rollin Kar… But sure I could manage a proper market tour complete with ducking guards and handlers.”

A grin full of sharp points was the mischievous response. “You pull through with that Eridan and you are well on your way to winning my favor. Until tomorrow then.” He swung himself ungracefully back onto the platform and then waved for them to move out. Entourage falling in behind it was quite the sight and yet the troll at the center was just the same as the rest of them. Awkward, self-depreciating, and had a liking for sweets. Funny how things turned out sometimes.

Speaking of, “Eridan I got Sollux’s chumhandle isn’t that great! He shore is a cutie for a landglubber!”

Cursing to himself for forgetting to ask for Karkat’s chumhandle he took Fef’s hand. “It’s great Fef. Now let’s got get what we came for so we can just have fun tomorrow.”

Laughing, hand in hand they went to market and if Eridan stayed up half the day sending messages back and forth with candy red text well… Feferi had the good sense to do nothing more than joke about the bags under his eyes and how he was going to ruin his good looks. At least he matched with Karkat that night at the market.


	2. Rubies and Gold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first paragraph of this was written by 3VAD127 when she prompted me to write the rest.

The first time you see him, he’s dirty and fresh out of the sewers, reeking of shit and polluted water and the insanity that comes with it. He spots you and grins, all four rows of knives bared in a way that isn’t quite civilized; you start. He doesn’t do anything but grin at you and you are scurried away by your guides before you can do more than stare back. The next time you see him, his eyes are dark and narrow, teeth bared and horns down as he and his bloodmates scream in their seadweller tongue and fight back against the psionics of the goldbloods. You don’t know what to think anymore.

The coldbloods are nothing more than animals is what everyone around you says. They deserve to be treated in such a way, mad and stupid and wild as they are. And that absolutely burns you from the inside out. You are a noble guest lavished with gifts and attention wherever you go all thanks to the color inside you. _Something that you have nothing to do with_. A chance at birth is what blesses you and curses them. And it’s anger about such utter _bullshit_ that has you striding out of reach of your handlers to stand between the coldbloods and the goldbloods.

The psionics don’t die quickly enough and you are lashed across the face, a trickle of bright crimson down your cheek. The goldbloods are horrified even as the cold behind you snarl and fall back in awe and fear. You are the Signless, the Sacred Scarletblood, a respected and celebrated mutant, one who bends the Empress’ ear even as he speaks with all from the highest to the coldest. And to kill you would be death. “What on Alternia do you think you’re doing? These are trolls not animals and you will treat them as such! Honestly your mother grub is ashamed to have you survive the trials. Get back to real work all of you. This disgusting spectacle is over!”

There are grumbles and worries, but you ignore them all and turn your back to face the coldbloods instead. Most have taken your interruption to flee, but he’s still there. And he’s staring at you like you’re just as mad as he. Again he gives you a smile with all his teeth and you sigh rubbing a hand through your hair. Blood is dripping from a long scratch bisecting his face and you extend a hand without thought. “Come with me. That needs looking after.”

His grin flickers, madness in his gaze receding to show hard calculation. You keep the hand out even as the mutters around you grow. Finally he snorts and stands to tower over you. It should be intimidating, instead it’s almost laughable. “Lead on little mutant.” You grin and lead him back to your set of rooms in the palace. It’s lavish and rich and you kind of hate it. His eyes catch on anything shiny and you can see him calculating exactly how much he can pocket before he gets caught.

Whispers follow you down the hall, but you ignore them in favor of closing and locking the door behind you. Trusting him to follow, you head for the ablution block. Surprisingly enough he does and while you’re pulling things out of the cabinets he digs through one of the sets of jewelry they prepare for you everywhere. “Got enough gold in here to drown you little one.” He’s teasing, testing to see what exactly your aim is.

So you roll your eyes and turn to him with the med kit in hand. You offer him a damp towel to wipe the blood off. “Sadly they don’t seem to realize I don’t want any of it. Too gaudy for me I’m afraid.”

He looks you up and down, the towel spotty with violet blood. “You’re clearly lacking in taste I’ll give ya that.” With a tsk you flick him in the forehead and take the towel. The cut starts just to the left of his nose and continues down through both of his lips to end just above the edge of his jaw.

You have no idea how he’s been talking to you because that must burn like fire with how deep the scratch is. You nudge him to sit on the edge of the tub and he’s oddly compliant. You pull out the antiseptic cleaner first. He doesn’t need an infection especially if he’s heading back into that disgusting water. He doesn’t flinch as you begin rubbing it in and you can feel him staring at you. Not that odd considering you are inches from his face.

_Why did you bring him back here? Why did you notice him so much at all? He’s probably a sweep from becoming a feral and should be one already._ Your mind whirls and tosses as you ready needle and thread to stitch the wound closed. You’ll have to do it in two parts so that he can open his mouth without popping the stitches open. He’s still staring at you. You meet his gaze as you take his head in hand turning it slightly to get a better angle.

You pause. “This will hurt a bit, my apologies.” He grins and brings a finger up to tap the scar running across one of his eyes and down over the bridge of his nose. You snort but still don’t break eye contact with him.

He breaks the silence first. “I ain’t ever seen a troll like you before Scarletblood.” You roll your eyes and press the edges of the scratch together to push the needle in.

“That is generally what happens when one is a mutant. Not too many of us running around.” He doesn’t flinch as you begin to sew him up.

Quiet descends again and you reflect how odd that is, and how relaxing. Everyone constantly talks at you or wants you to speak, like they’re running out of time to say all they need. And it’s hardly anything of substance, gossip and chatter about things. And you don’t care, you never have. But this seadweller is silent, measuring you, measuring the gold, weighing the risks, you don’t know. But it’s quiet and he’s steady under your hands as you finish the sutures over his top lip.

You rethread the needle and hands are on your hips. You look at him, your expression calm and don’t say a word. “I ain’t never seen a troll like you little mutant because I ain’t ever seen a troll what gives a damn about someone colder than Jade.” His hands are still on your hips, not containing, not encasing, just a steady weight. You tilt his head again and begin to sew the bottom half, keeping him silent and allowing you time to think.

You’re halfway done before you speak. “I am a mutant, blessed upon my birth due to the scarlet in my veins. You are a seadweller cursed to madness by the poisonous waters you swim in since your birth. Neither of us chose the circumstances and on a different world, the situation could be very much changed.” His skin is cool under your warm hands, his hands holding you in place in front of him.

You continue nearing the bottom of the scratch. “What makes us different? We’re both genetically separated from the main spectrum, so by what right do I treat those who swim differently than I am treated for burning hotter than any other? Trolls are trolls and all deserve to be treated the same.” The thread is tied off, the sutures complete. Still you return your hands to his face, checking your work.

The stitches should hold so long as someone else doesn’t try to slice his face open. Violet eyes are staring at you still and you wait. “…You’re an odd one little mutant. Crazy ideas and stupid to boot to look your boon in life in the face and shake your head… But interestin too.” It doesn’t seem odd at all when he tugs you closer and kisses you. It was the natural progression from the first time you saw him fresh out of the sewers. You were always going to end up here somehow, kissing a seadweller with madness in his blood and ambition in his eyes.

So when he slips away out through the garden your rooms look out to, you smirk and watch him go, a violetblooded warrior with a mess of your gold jewelry in his pockets. He’ll return. He all but told you so. Seadwellers are attracted to the shine of gold and precious gems. And the way he said your title, “Scarletblood,” told you that you attracted him more than a little gold. Idly you wash the trickle of blood off your face and wonder how long it’ll take your guards to catch on.

*

You hawk the jewelry here and there, not wanting to attract attention to your new wind fall. Your face stings from your newest battle scar, but it would be much worse if your newest bit of entertainment hadn’t stitched you up.

It had been odd to say the least, soft hands, gentle but firm holding you in place as bright eyes carefully pieced you back together. Tucked away in one of your best hideouts, you run a finger over the stitches and reach a hand into your pocket. One last piece remains from the things you took from him. _Took ha! He all but handed it to you with a thank you note._

You roll the little ruby piercing between your fingers watching what little light there is catch and reflect. The stone was small, hardly worth what little money it would fetch. _It’s also the same color as his eyes, watching you calm as he worked, bright as he spoke of equality, and soft as you kissed him_. You shake your head and pocket it again.

Maybe you’ll go see him again. _Just for the jewels mind. Definitely not to see his eyes or feel him between your hands. No, not that at all._ It’s funny how false the lie tastes even in your mind.


	3. The One He Loved

The moons are setting the first time he mentions it. “Do you know the troll Signless loved more than any other?” You shrug, but before you can ask what he knows he’s tugging you to your feet as you both race from the rising sun. As you laugh breathless he kisses you. You forget about his question.

It comes up again perigees later as you sneak a moment together in his closet. Tucked away from prying eyes and nosy gossips, you have him settled in your lap, chin between his horns. You’re so lost in the comfortable atmosphere that it takes you a moment to recognize that he spoke instead of made a general noise of contentment. “Do you know how the Signless died?” You freeze, because the answer is dangerous; because there are stories and there are rumors and somewhere lays the truth, but no one has ever pieced together the whole story.

So you hesitate and stall, running your fingers through his hair. He rumbles happily, but he’s staring you can feel it even as you avoid his gaze and he’s not going to let it go or brush it off. So you go for the safe route because no matter how much he makes your bloodpusher throb the wrong answer could get you killed because this is about the first Sacred Scarletblood of all trolls. “The first Sacred Scarletblood was…murdered by coldbloods. One, the great master of chucklevoodoos was caught and executed in the riot that followed the discovery of the death. The other…”

Eyes not yet turned bright red, but instead are still a steady grey watch you so you swallow hard and continue. “The other was a violet seadweller, never caught and who hid and died in the sea that birthed his poisonous heart.” You finally meet his gaze, the legacy of sacred scarlet curled in your lap and he’s studying you, weighing you.

He seems to reach some decision and he pushes off your lap to face you proper. “Is that what they say where you come from? Is that the story all coldbloods tell?”

You want to tell him yes, that everyone knows the official account is the _only_ one. But…you can’t lie to him and what difference do a few rumors make? Some violet seatroll from history does not shape you and Kar knows that. “No. There’s…rumors.” He nods like he expected as much and you proceed still a bit cautious but certain that he’s not going to throw you to the guards for spreading malicious tales. “There’s rumors that the violet lived thousands a sweeps, stayed hidden and sane in and outta the water. That he knows what really happened, but-”

_Too much, too much._ You cut yourself off. For all that you trust him, he’s still a highblood, a scarlet, and he wouldn’t understand why the story is so highly prized among seadwellers, a sign that they aren’t all doomed to short, poisoned, painful lives. So you smile instead. “They’re just rumors Kar. You should know the story better than anyone.” He frowns at you for that like you’ve disappointed him somehow.

Suddenly he is standing, throwing the closet doors open and this is it. He’s going to get the guards and have you killed or at the very least kicked out, never to see you again. He scrambles out and trots across the room and your brain is firing escape plans at you even as he returns to sit across from you again. He has an ancient book in hand and you can’t help but perk up in curiosity. History is in his hands and you couldn’t care less about what bit. The tome is old, held together with string and a prayer. Obviously someone’s personal book never published.

It’s so plain looking you don’t even realize what he went and fetched it for until he flips it open, finds a certain page, and offers it to you. Gently you take it, because it looks so fragile with age, and it smells of must and parchment and the ink has faded around the edges. It’s handwritten and as you scan the page he’s opened it to you blanch. _Oh sweet emissary of the horrorterrors._ “Kar,” you choke out hoarsely. “Kar, this is the private journal of the _Signless_.”

He simply raises an eyebrow, but his patience is as short as always and he snaps. “Top of the page, start of the day’s entry, read the whole thing.”

*

_He came back today while the sun was high. Through the sewers I imagine but he must have come through the laundry because he wasn’t dripping muck, but the stench clung to him regardless. I don’t know how he recalled the path to my rooms while in such a state but he did. I was up luckily, my insomnia granting me a boon for once so I heard his soft tap at the door. When I opened it he nigh collapsed upon me, catching himself just barely on the door frame._

_Blood dripped down the side of his neck as it coated one side of his face. His hair was tacky with it and his eyes… He was half-feral gone already. His pupils grew and shrank recognizing me then not as I took him in. I drug him inside, locking the door before heading for ablutions. He half clung to me for support, half clawed me from confusion. Even now my arms sting from fresh scratches but I cannot blame him._

_His silence was the worst. There were no little prodding remarks or quips just the grit of his teeth and harsh panting breath. Getting him to the block I began to wipe at the blood on the side of his face in search of the injury. Working around his ear, something gave and he snapped at my fingers, his teeth scrapping the skin as I pulled back._

_Carefully I returned to the join of his fin to the rest of his face. He was watching me hazily but seemed to have settled into recognition again. Lightly, as gently as I could, I traced the line of the join from the bottom. I got no farther than perhaps two centimeters before there was a sudden split. He growled between his teeth at even that small touch and I receded. Now that I knew what to look for, I could see all too well what had transpired._

_Someone tried to tear his earfin off by grabbing it near the top and pulling perpendicular to his head. They almost succeeded. The fin clings on by less than an inch. My hand shakes even now in fury to remember and describe it. Such cruelty and for what reason?_

_There was no doubt in my mind that I did not have the sufficient skills to care for the injury. To keep him calm I got him to lie back in the tub and dosed him with sopor. I bound the wound as best and tight as I could and went for help. I must admit panic lent speed to my steps and I probably frightened Psii more than necessary when I woke him. But he has done extensive medical research and I trust him more than any other._

_He was quite surprised and then panicked at my waking him at midday, violet blood on my hands and fresh injuries on my arms. I only insisted he hurry and that I was alright before racing him back to my rooms. The sopor still had my visitor under when we returned thanks be to any listening deity. Psii balked most unattractively at the mutilated coldblood in my tub, but I insisted. And he’s never been so cruel as to leave someone to suffer._

_He worked carefully to reattach the almost severed fin and did his best to burn out any traces of infection. He says with a clean healing process and a prayer it should heal properly and still work. I can only hope it is enough. The seadweller rests in my coon and Psii has returned to his own as the sun continues its way across the sky. I have yet to rest and weariness tugs at my bones. Yet I cannot sleep. He trusted me enough to cross the city, sneak in to find my rooms, just to have treatment. Is there nowhere else someone like him can go to be safe and cared for? Are seadwellers really so reviled that his only hope was someone like me?_

_Oh he wakes._

_*_

You trace a finger down your own earfin and wince in sympathy even as you look up at Kar. “What is the point here in me reading this? Everyone with a functionin pan knows your ancestor wanted equality, so a course he’d help an injured seadweller.” You try to sound put upon even as internally you freak out because you are reading the Signless’s journal, you are holding history in your hands, and the seadweller had visited him _before_.

The scarlet of your time just rolls his eyes and jabs a finger back at the pages. “Just keep reading.” You do. The next entry begins with harsh angry strokes, quite different from the previous thoughtful curls of calligraphy.

*

_This vile act of cruelty was performed by another coldblood. Apparently he found it amusing to see what a seadweller with no fins would look like. Only a desperate claw at his attacker’s eyes saved him and the rest of his fin. I do not understand these trolls who find joy and twisted delight in the torment of those below them! Why, why, why is so much emphasis placed on an accident of birth?_

_This system is rotten, rotten to the core. If only trolls would listen and see. For all my supposed power and position I am still no more worth listening to than the meanest, coldest beggar in the dirtiest of slums. It is far from the first time such thoughts have kept me awake, but now a living breathing reason sleeps in my rooms and my thoughts stir again, a brewing storm._

_How can so many believe such a system will persist and continue to do good? The waters are poison, the cities filthy, and the people sick and dying. Only a few feel the comforts of nightly food and warm sopor and it sickens me to see the lavishness displayed for me. For I know my guest fights the poison in his very veins every night even as he fights for food and a place to sleep. I know little to nothing of the savage places in this world. Only gold and jewels and comfort and a role I never asked for. An accident of birth and I can’t help but wonder if in another world his fins would mark him a king as my blood would mark me an outcast._

_It does me no good to go without rest. Night will be on us shortly and I must sleep lest a maid catch my guest and me by surprise. Perhaps my mind will be clearer later. This event has shaken me._

_*_

You trace the last swoop of letters with a delicate finger. _Fins marking someone as a king…_ It makes you ache a little to think about. You and Fef not having to scrape for every bit, not having to worry every night about her not having enough food or sopor or medicine. You shove it back and meet Karkat’s eyes. “Was there a point to me reading this? Or are you just showing that your slurry has always been a bit mad with seadweller love?” He flips you off for that one and you can feel yourself relax slightly.

Still he takes the book back from you. “Most only remember my ancestor because he was murdered by coldbloods despite preaching equality. They don’t bother to remember what exactly he said only that despite his saint like nature the vicious coldbloods killed him one dusky evening just after sunset. And while I think he was a complete and utter dumbass trying to talk people into being less narrow-minded I don’t think he was wrong about blood.” He’s staring down at the words scrawled across the page unseeing and you wonder just how long he’s spent pouring over the pages.

Bells begin to chime signaling the end of your time together. He has a formal dinner and you need to find Fef and head home. Before that though you reel him in for a kiss. You pull back and he nuzzles your nose. “Next time, I’ll tell you what I know about the seadweller.” His eyes spark in curiosity and you grin. He rolls his eyes at the shark smile, but you know he’s still excited to find out more.

He stands up and offers you a hand. “Go on, your moirail is probably terrorizing the staff. I’ll see you next week.” You can hear how it’s still a question no matter how he wants it to be firm and you soften a bit.

You kiss him again. “Next week in the market.” His begrudging smile makes your pusher throb tenderly.

*

You spend more time than you should chasing the tail ends of stories and rumors to their sources over the next week. You should be spending the extra time on the other tasks it takes to keep you and Fef safe and warm, earning extra caegars for the slower times, but Kar has you curious now. What did happen to the violet? How involved with the Signless was he? Who exactly was the seadweller and what happened the night the Scarletblood died? The questions and stories chase each other round and round until you can barely sleep.

Still you find nothing. Nothing but the same vague rumor bullshit you’ve heard half a dozen times. You’re meeting with Kar in two hours and you wanted to find out more for him and you’ve got nothing. You’re groaning and dragging your feet about leaving when Feferi appears in front of you. “Fef what is it? Thought you left already.” Flitting off to play with her new best friend, the gold psionic, not that you can talk, off once a week to spend time with Kar.

She smiles a bit awkwardly but doesn’t say anything as she offers you a waterproof envelope. It looks thick and worn. The front is marked with your sign in dark violet ink and nothing more. You look up in disbelief. “Fef where did you…?”

She shakes her head. “He stopped me just outside and handed it to me. Eridan he was old and…” She hesitates biting her lip. “He had your horns!” You stare at the envelope for another moment and then dash for the door. There’s no one outside of course, but if _only_ … You have so many questions for him.

With a sigh you come back in and sit. Fef hovers and you smile reassuringly. “Go on. I’ll be fine. I gotta meet up with Kar and I know you don’t like to make Captor wait.” She returns the smile, hugs you tight for a moment and races off. You turn the envelope over in your hand in the silence and trace the zigzags with a finger. Then you pocket it and head out. At least you have something to show Kar now.

It’s a good night, fair weather for once, and the market is bustling. It takes you awhile longer than you expected to work your way through the crowd to the meeting place. The baked goods cart is always easy to find, delicious scents guiding your path and the teal that runs it is older and winks every time she sees the two of you. There’s a hooded figure, short, pointy horns poking through waiting. You grin to yourself and grab him from behind. The first time that horn disguise had thrown you, but you were grateful to not have to escape a mob every time he came out to see you.

Kar squeaks when you wrap him in a hug from behind and he turns to face you affronted, but you kiss him before he can yell and call attention to the two of you. He tastes of cinnamon which is probably due to the half-eaten apple pastry he has in hand. You pull away and lick your lips teasingly. “You taste great Kar.” He swears at you and refuses to give you a bite of the pastry, but you laugh and tug him away with a nod to the teal.

You wander your way through the rows of stalls and carts, a practiced eye out for any good sales, but nothing is catching and Karkat continues to deny you more kisses for your earlier stunt. The letter is a lead weight in your pocket and you sigh. Kar instantly looks around at you and you pull a face. “Sorry, just too many people. Want to go somewhere quieter?”

He studies you for a moment then seems to remember what you had talked about last time. “Yeah sure okay.” And he takes the lead heading for a secluded park.

You stumble past another couple making out on a bench in your search for privacy and whistle like an asshole. Karkat tugs you on with an irritated noise as one of them flips you off with a growl. You cackle as your date pulls you to sit under a tree. “Alright what’s up? What the fuck did you find that’s got you so bothered?” He sees right through you with those bright silver eyes and you slump.

You pull out the envelope but don’t hand it over right away. “Fef was given this by an old seatroll with my horns.” Your voice cracks on the last word and you swallow hard.

He’s just watching you but you can see his eyebrows rising up. “I haven’t read it yet, but I think- Kar what if he’s the one?”

He takes your free hand and squeezes it. “He’s not you and you’re not him.” He pauses long enough for you to look up and smile. “Now open the fucking thing before I explode my thinkpan everywhere in curiosity and impatience.” You snort and stick a claw under the seal, slicing it open easily.

The paper inside is the same, thick parchment like, and waterproof. The words hand written in the same dark violet ink as the sign and you trace a finger over it carefully feeling the indentations. It’s nothing like the graceful curls of the Signless, but there’s something familiar about the stark lines. “Well, what is it?” Kar’s voice breaks your reverie and you actually focus on what’s printed on the pages.

You start from the top and stop shortly in disbelief. “It’s an account a the night your ancestor died.” His mouth falls open and he gapes. Before he can tear the pages out of your hand you begin to read it aloud.

*

_The sun had just dipped below the horizon when I went to find him. My fin still stings while in the water, a constant reminder of what he had tried to do to amuse himself. I was angered by the news that he had returned and wished to confront him about the fight. I was short tempered and stupid at that age. I actually believed I could leave the meeting unscathed and perhaps even take him down._

_I cornered him in an alley the dusk settling around us. It was as if he was waiting for me and he laughed, grating and harsh when he saw me. “Back again and still got both your fins. Did you enjoy the joke last time that much motherfucker?”_

_I almost cracked a tooth every time I spoke with him and this time was no different. My fins flared aggressively as I hissed in distaste. “I’m here for my due. I plan to take it out of your skin you disgusting excuse for a half-feral.”_

_That made him laugh again and I could almost hear my teeth creak as I gritted them. “Tell you what my finned brother. You tell me a joke and then we see who lives and who dies. Doesn’t that sound down right mirthful?”_

_I snapped at him. “Tell you a joke? You must be stupid as well as mad!” There was a thud in answer to me. He had a club, spiked, long as my arm that he had set on the ground. I don’t know where he kept it but it was something to easily crush skulls in with. He rested his hand on the end of it, casual, but I could see the tension to his arm. He could swing it at me at any time._

_I was a dead man no matter what. He had always had some hatred for me just as I had for him. It had only festered through time. Now as I faced him down in this alley I knew this was it. I never expected to live out my lifespan, but now I was staring down the end. “How about that joke motherfucker?” There was the shift of the dirt underfoot perhaps footsteps at the mouth of the alley._

_I spat in his face. “Go fuck yourself. I will not be a source of amusement for you.”_

_There was the crunch of shifting earth as he gripped the handle of the club. “That’s a shame seabrother. But I shouldn’t have expected any motherfucking less from a salt licker like you.” I closed my eyes not wanting to watch the club descend. Hurried footsteps sounded right before there was a sickening squelching crunch._

_There was no pain and I opened my eyes in disbelief. In front of me still stood the coldblood half-feral who was beginning to laugh madly. The end of his club instead of being my violet was scarlet. And at my feet…was the Scarletblood himself. He was holding a hand to the side of his neck which was coated in blood. All strength fled me and I kneeled next to him. Before I could think I was shouting at him. “Why? Why did you do something so stupid? I’m not worth more than gutter trash and you’re-”_

_My hands were shaking and I looked at them in surprise, dotted with scarlet from where they had lied on the ground. He just smiled at me, one hand coming up to brush the side of my face. He couldn’t speak, blood bubbling over his lips, but his lips still shaped the words. “Everyone is worth the same, all priceless. Glad…you’re okay.” He shuddered under my hands and he looked scared, but he kept talking, reassuring me._

_The murderer had sauntered off and night was coming and to be caught here would assure my death. “You shouldn’t have interfered you idiot. I’m not worth it.”_

_He shook in silent laughter, the blood on his teeth make it horrifying. “Course you are… It’s cold…” He was dropping and there was nothing I could do and I still didn’t understand. I had one of his hands between both of my own. It fluttered weakly and he looked at me, eyes half-lidded. “Cold…tired…sorry…about this. I’ll be waiting…”_

_The alley held a pool of scarlet, a dead mutant, and I was covered in his blood. The smell had already attracted attention, iron on the air bringing someone running. He stared sightlessly away from me and I wasted another ten seconds sliding his eyes closed. Then I ran, shouts following me as guards raced after. It’s even now still mostly a blur my run from the alley back to the sea. My mind continually circling back to that scarlet pool of blood chased itself round and round._

_Even as I returned to the cool embrace of the water, diffusing the blood from my skin, lifeless red eyes haunted me. Now thousands of sweeps have passed and I still feel him. My time is finally coming, but you at least deserved to know the story._

_-51.49196, 17.91818_

*

Your hands are shaking almost as badly as the pen of the writer did as he wrote the Signless’s final words. You hadn’t been able to read the whole thing out loud. Kar had taken it from you and finished it. Every part of you is screaming at the unfairness of it all and if Fef would here she would laugh and say, “Just like you and those romance books Eridan! You’re such a softie underneath it all.” But as you glance over at Kar he looks the same as you feel.

You pull him in tight to you and cry into his shoulder as he does yours. You’ve never been so terrified by something you’ve read. The words like a map, a road to your future, and you could lose him some dusky evening just the same. You not sure how long you both sit there, crying and shaking and holding each other tight, but eventually you both begin to gain some control. “I c-can’t believe it.” You are still staring at your hands, finding it much too easy to imagine them covered in tacky scarlet.

Karkat makes some inquisitive noise and you continue the thought. “Your ancestor sacrificed himself to save a seadweller from another coldblood. No one cares if we rip ourselves apart in the slums and he-”

He wraps his hands around yours and your tremors match. “Eridan, my ancestor was an idiot and apparently so was yours. But we’re not them. We don’t have to be near as stupid and we can do whatever we fucking want.” And yeah he’s been crying too so his eyes are kinda bright, but he’s also staring at you like he’d set the entire world on fire

You chuckle stupidly cause Kar always makes you stupid and bump your foreheads together. He kisses you and you happily spend the next few minutes making each other feel better. Eventually though he pulls away despite your whining to pick the letter up again. “Did you see this here at the bottom? Numbers.”

You take the paper from him and blink in surprise. “These are coordinates, like what ships sail with.”

You’ve got an old map back at your hive, a bit of history you haven’t wanted to lose. It’s of the town and the sea around it, nothing big but it does mark out longitude and latitude. Kar is staring at you and nods when you look at him. “You go. It’s not really my business, but…” He trails off and you snort.

“Yes I’ll tell you what happens. Get home so I can make haste.” You kiss him a few more times on the walk back to market before sending him off and heading back yourself.

It doesn’t take long to find the location on your map. A set of caves, entrance underwater, but they come up above the water. You reseal the envelope, tuck it in your pocket, leave a note for Fef so she won’t worry, and head out. Answers are finally within your grasp.

*

The nights grow ever colder around you, seeping into your bones in a way they never had before you got old. It’s harder to see in the dark, even the moons not shedding enough light for your tired eyes. Your ears however are still as good as ever and you can hear someone coming through the tunnel. A seadweller of some kind, no one else can get inside these caves. You know who it is. No one else would have reason to come here. He hesitates just around the corner and you smirk to yourself. Not one to charge in foolishly, smarter than you at that age already.

Eventually though come into your cave he does and he stops. You keep your back to him for another moment, waiting to see what he does. He clears his throat and there is the shuffle of his feet on the damp stone. “Excuse me. Are you the one that brought this letter?” His voice holds an odd warble and you can’t help but cough a laugh and turn around. _Same horns_ … That’s not all that even your poor eyes can see. He holds his shoulders stiff, wanting to impress, his hair has that stubborn violet streak, and he’s got the sign of the Aquarius stitched onto his jacket.

You turn fully and he’s got the letter in hand and he ducks his head, almost a bow. His fins are flicking back and forth, he’s nervous and you chuckle. He glances up at you and you gesture so that he’ll step closer. “I can barely see you over there. I’m old you guppy, my eyes aren’t as sharp as yours.” Of course as he steps closer you can make out his glasses and you smirk. “Then again maybe yours are as bad as mine.” He’s losing some of the awestruck look finally, beginning to look put out almost.

He crosses his arms with a huff before remembering what he came for. He offers the letter again and you take it. You let him gather his courage to ask, refusing to just hand over what he wants. “Is it true?” A straight shooter, not one to mince words then. There is so much of you to see in him, but also so much different. You wonder if he’s made better choices.

Your voice is a grumble, harsh with age. “I knew the Signless yes. And that is how he died. Is that all you came to ask about?” It had hurt writing that bit out for the second time, no matter that it’s been sweeps and sweeps since it happened. The worst details still linger fresh in your mind, tainting your dreams with the smell of iron blood and cold dead eyes. He’s watching you carefully even as you lift an eyebrow.

Finally he has the guts to ask another question. “How did you live so long? I mean you aren’t feral…”

You have to laugh at that, harsh even to your own ears. “You act smart and make the right decisions and you’ll be this old yourself kid. Staying sane is the hard part. Don’t spend too long in the water. Don’t let wounds get infected by the water. Don’t let your rage control you.” He nods along and part of you wants to scoop him up in a hug while your pride wants to play the grumpy elder troll for all it’s worth. You can almost hear Signless’ quiet laugh at that. _Still so stubborn._

He’s still far enough away you can’t see his face properly. “Come here boy so I can see you.” He does, a bit awkwardly and you hold his face in one hand so he meets your gaze. “You’re a violet seadweller, but that don’t make you trash you hear me? Don’t let anyone kick you around, protect what’s yours, and never give up. This world is finally starting to change a bit into the shape he wanted. Keep it moving for him and you.”

He nods into your hand “Yes sir.” You release him and lean back, exhaustion dragging at you.

You can count the hours you have left on one hand and you have one last thing for him. “You’re not me guppy. You get to make your own choices. But I do have this for you.” It’s a book you’ve been writing in for sweeps. A collection of your life from your first fight to the night you lost everything even if you didn’t realize it yet to the close of it all is what’s contained inside. He takes it, but you don’t release it just yet. “Remember one thing more. Life is pointless without someone who cares for you in it. And everyone matters to someone.”

He holds your gaze and nods, so stern so serious. You wonder if he has found those people yet. You hope so. You let go of the book. “Now get out. I need my rest.”

He hesitates and you growl slightly irritated. “C-can I come see you again?”

You want to laugh and cry. “Guppy I’m not a role model. I’m an old sea troll waiting to die and I have been for sweeps. Get out and live your life. Don’t get caught up here. Now go.” He bows again and goes.

You lean back and close your eyes. The cold is creeping into your every bone and you don’t fight it. Your legacy has been passed on. You’re old and you have nothing left. You don’t notice when you fall asleep. You only notice when you wake up to bright light and warm hands. You look up in surprise to bright red eyes and a brilliant smile. “I’ve been waiting for you.” His voice is the same and you sob as he holds you tight.

You finally made it home.

*

The books appear slowly. They are sold only as a set and at first only by a few very liberal sellers. Both are black, thick, the only difference between them: the signs on the front. Much curiosity is originally spent on the Cancer journal, but eventually the Aquarius is read slowly, thoroughly by the most curious. No one knows where they came from at first. A work of fiction inspired by the Signless and his death and his love of all colors? Someone’s idea of a bad joke? Maybe even…the truth?

The rumors and theories about the book persist for sweeps, their underground popularity growing steadily. Then at ten sweeps the Second Scarletblood makes an appearance and brings with him his violet seadweller matesprit. And they tell the truth about the Signless and his Seadweller. And the world is never quite the same. Fights and arguments break out anew. The journals fly off the shelves as the entire Empire debates the shape of the future and the past.

And in one small corner of the palace a seadweller steals a quiet kiss from his lover in their rooms. Two thick, ancient books sit upon their bookshelf and the light dances off one red and one violet earring. Each moment they carve out their own future and make it shape to their liking.

In another pocket of space time, another mutant laughs as his seadweller swings him around. Somehow it’s perfect.


End file.
